The Veiled Hearts

🌹Threads of Past (Part-1)🔪

Vanya stood quietly, trying to steady her breathing, her gaze fixed on the scene ahead. Reyansh, Aarav, and Avni stood in front of her, but Yash's firm grip on her hand anchored her in place. Her heart raced as her eyes drifted towards the man sitting near the entry door on the wheelchair. The dim, flickering light barely illuminated the wheelchair-bound figure, yet his presence sent a chill down her spine.

He didn't need to speak to command attention.

The bandage wrapped tightly around his head, obscuring his eyes beneath those heavy brows, only added to the mystery of him. His grey beard, rough and untamed, gave him the appearance of someone who had weathered a storm. One hand rested on his lap, covered in a thick bandage, while the other lay calmly beside him. The hospital gown hung loosely over his frame, blending into the stark, sterile atmosphere, but there was no mistaking the power in his silence.

Kunal broke the tension, quietly slipping behind the wheelchair. He guided the man forward, each turn of the wheels echoing in the room. Yash's gaze never wavered from the figure approaching him. His jaw clenched tightly, eyes darkening with something Vanya couldn't quite understand.

"Who's he?" Vanya whispered, barely audible, afraid to disturb whatever unspoken tension hung between everyone and the man on the wheelchair.

Yash's voice came out cold, detached, never breaking his focus. "My dad."

The words hit her like a wave. Without thinking, she quickly pulled her hand from Yash's grip, suddenly feeling out of place. Vanya's inner thoughts burst -What was she doing? Clinging to the son of a man who clearly held an empire under his control, even while confined to a wheelchair whereas she is a small sand grain in front of them.

Yash's eyes flickered with something when he felt her hand slip away, but before he could react, Vikram Singhania was right in front of them. Kunal released the wheelchair, taking a step back.

All eyes were now on Vikram.

Vikram's smile was sharp, his eyes scanning the room with a knowing gaze. The once polished appearance of Yash, Reyansh, and Aarav was now disheveled, their expensive shirts creased, reflecting the chaos they had just endured. Avni and Vanya, dressed in gown and saree, looked like they had stepped out of a storm. Yet, despite their messy appearances, the air remained thick with tension.

"Seems like everyone attended two parties tonight," Vikram said, his voice steady, the smile on his lips not reaching his eyes. "One thrown by Maa, and the other by these goons." His words hung in the air, but no one laughed. Silence fell over them, as if the weight of their unspoken questions was too heavy to lift. Even from a wheelchair, Vikram's presence still commanded respect, and still demanded attention. After all, a wounded lion was still a lion.

Vikram's smile faded slightly at their lack of response. "What happened?" he asked, tilting his head. "I know I have to answer many questions, but I just woke up after 30 days. Can't I get one smile after a 30-day nap?" He chuckled softly, and while everyone managed a strained smile, pressing their questions down, Yash didn't budge. His eyes were still locked on his father.